Love’s Gamble

He suddenly heard a noise coming from downstairs. He was worried. He was not sure of what that could be. There was nothing valuable in the basement. He had seen it twice before, once before buying the place and once after. He had not thought much of it. It just seemed like a regular basement. There was a wooden table down there and a number of chairs, and the place had smelled quite a bit of smoke that came from cigarettes, but the owners had told him that this was just a place they used to relax with their friends every now and again. They mentioned cards, but assured him that no gambling went on in the premises of the restaurant he was about to buy.

He had been assured by them that the purchase he was making was a good one, and he believed them. He knew that they had a reason to lie, of course, since they wanted to sell the place and retire with the money they earned, but at the same time he knew that he had to be assertive and he had to make a decision as quickly as possible or he would lose his nerve.

He wondered what was going on down there. Whatever it was, he knew that it was something that he was going to have to deal with. He knew that if he did not handle this now, it might end up spiraling into something that was completely out of his control.

He looked at Rick, the manager he had recently hired, and motioned to him that he was going to head downstairs to check out what all that noise was about. Rick nodded, understanding what his boss was saying, and assumed his position behind the cashier, waiting for people to come and give him their order.

Ken headed downstairs. He was scared, scared out of his mind, but this was just something that he had to do. He picked up a baseball bat, holding it in what he hoped would seem like a threatening position. He went down to the basement door and first pressed his ear against it.

He could hear laughter. That had certainly not at all been what he had expected to hear. He had thought that he was going to hear scuffling, the sound of people trying to get into his restaurant. He had assumed that it would be junkies or homeless people that were trying to find some place reasonably dry and warm where the police would not be able to get them. That meant that they were going to be here for a while if he did not tackle them. It might even be teenagers trying to fulfill a dare, and he hoped that this was what it was going to be. If not teenagers then he desperately hoped that it would be someone similarly easy to handle, someone like a homeless person. If he was going to be faced with junkies, however, he was not sure how he was going to handle the situation. Junkies could be dangerous, especially if they had not had their fix yet. He knew that they would get violent with him. He had his bat with him but he did not know if he was prepared to use it. If he was going to do this right now, it was going to require every ounce of his courage.

He pressed his ear to the door again. Laughter and what appeared to be talking was what he heard. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, about a dozen at least. He imagined that there was a gang that was using his basement as a meeting place, or some other kind of dangerous situation. He did not know what to expect.

He stood there for five whole minutes, wondering whether he should enter the basement or call the police. He decided that the former was the option he should go for right now, because he had to learn how to handle things himself. How was he going to manage this restaurant if he was not assertive enough to keep it safe himself?

He entered the basement with a bang and a shout. He saw cards and money on the table, as well as alcohol and cigarettes.

It was a poker game.

“What?” said Ken. “What the hell is going on here? Who are you people?”

The people playing poker looked at each other. He had hoped to make a powerful entry but he had clearly not managed to do that. They did not look threatened or afraid at all. Instead, they looked rather amused.

Out of the group, a woman stood up. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was dark and sleek and it cascaded down her body like a river of silk upon dark brown earth. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and Ken suddenly found his resolve crumbling. He saw it happen and he truly hated himself for it. All it took was a beautiful woman and he would become a bumbling fool. He did not want this to be the case, but he knew that it was too late.

The woman had a fiery look on her face. He had a feeling that people did not mess with her often and got away with it. He had a feeling that she had a tendency to take people out for thinking that they could mess with her. Ken wondered what she was going to say to him right now.

*****

Freema appraised the restaurant owner coolly. He was entirely unthreatening, so much so that it was rather funny. He had come in with his baseball bat, clearly hoping to make a scary and triumphant entry, but he had just managed to come across as weak and foolish.

All in all, he was easy meat for Freema, who was in a fiery mood after losing a fair amount of money already.

“So,” she said, her voice the perfect mixture of scorn and disdain as well as a small amount of verbal violence. She prided herself on her ability to be so violent with her voice. “You’re the owner. Ken, is it? Ken Ahn?”

Ken looked at her with a surprised look on his face. She was surprised by how good looking he was. His hair was styled impeccably, and his body was fit underneath his clothes. He was not a weakling, he just had a gentle sort of way about him. She was sure that he was the kind of guy that would take an injured puppy to the vet if he saw it struggling on the road. He was young too, probably late twenties, early thirties at most. No more than two or three years older than Freema herself, who was twenty seven years of age.